The Alphabet Sisters Page 34

  The realization came on slowly and surely throughout the day. She found herself watching him more closely, being more conscious of him than she ever had been before. She was acutely aware of him walking close behind her as they were taken on a tour of the cool stone winery building, breathing in the rich smells of the wooden barrels of wine around them. As she interviewed the winemaker and spoke to the people at the cellar door, she knew Daniel was nearby. She watched him deftly take the cameras out of the bag, check settings, and switch lenses. She noticed the casual, assured way he put light meters into his pockets, the way his body moved so lithely as he walked around, looking for good angles, trying for unusual shots. She noticed his manner with the people he was photographing, how quickly he put them at ease.

  They drove back into Clare in the early afternoon. The sight of his lean, brown hands on the steering wheel was beginning to have quite an effect on her. The way he tapped his long fingers gently in time to the music on the radio. The way he changed the gears so skillfully. She dragged her eyes away from his hands, then found herself noticing his thighs instead, how good they looked in the jeans he was wearing. As they stopped at an intersection, he pushed back the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt to check the time. She noticed every detail in an instant. The brown skin of his arm, the golden hairs, the muscles. She nearly leaped out of her seat when he reached over suddenly to catch a brochure that kept sliding back and forth along the dashboard.

  He sent her a puzzled look. “Bett, are you sure you’re okay today? You seem a bit distracted. Jumpy.”

  “Do I? Am I? Sorry. I must be coming down with something.”

  They started talking about the work they’d done that morning, and then the dress rehearsal for the musical. He casually referred to the fact that Matthew had been there and they were all getting on just fine, and she just as casually remarked that it was good to see Carrie and Matthew so happy together.

  “I’ll be able to die a happy man now, too. I actually got to see the Alphabet Sisters perform.”

  She pulled a face. “I did warn you. We weren’t exactly The Supremes.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I just wish I’d seen you in your heyday. When you were really at the height of your powers.”

  “Count your blessings that you didn’t.”

  He was laughing as he pulled into a shady spot in the main street, a hundred meters or so down from the Valley Times office. “So did you have a triumphant last performance? The audience in tears, waving cigarette lighters at the three of you?”

  “Not quite.” She hesitated for only a second. “It was awful actually. Three boys shouted Piggy in the Middle at me when we were onstage one day, and it ruined it for me from then on.”

  “They called you Piggy in the Middle?”

  She nodded.

  “How ridiculous.”

  “Ridiculous?” She didn’t understand.

  “Well, Pretty Girl in the Middle I could understand.”

  She went still.

  “Or Bright-eyed Girl in the Middle.”

  She held her breath.

  “Or Great Fun to Be With in the Middle.”

  She was smiling now.

  “But Piggy? No. They were three blind boys, obviously,” he said, very matter-of-fact. “Three blind stupid boys. Three blind stupid boys who wouldn’t know a world-class singer and performer if she came up and—” he foundered for a moment.

  “Grunted in their faces?” she helped him.

  He grinned. “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of yodeled.”

  Later that day Rebecca called her into her office. “Everything go well today?”

  “It did, thanks. Just the Drover’s Experience story to go next week and that tourism project is all done.”

  “You and Daniel getting along okay?”

  “Yes, thanks.” She couldn’t read the expression on Rebecca’s face. “I have been going easy on him, I promise. Like you asked me to.” She was still puzzled by what Rebecca had meant by that. Daniel hadn’t let on that anything was wrong at all.

  Rebecca was trying not to smile. “I know. I suppose I was wondering what your definition of going easy on him might be.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s just I had two calls today from people wondering why my reporter and my photographer were sitting in the company car in the main street for nearly an hour talking and laughing their heads off. Was it a stakeout? they wondered. Were we on to a hot story?”

  Bett gave a strange-sounding laugh. “God, this town. They just make up gossip if they can’t find any, don’t they?”

  “Do they?” Rebecca smiled mischievously. “You tell me. You’ve lived here longer than I have.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Opening night arrived. The last tickets had been sold that morning. It was a full house.

  Lola had pulled out all the stops, raiding not just her own wardrobe, but Carrie’s, Anna’s, and Bett’s as well. It had taken everyone some discipline not to gasp or laugh too loudly when she first stepped out of her room, ready to be driven to the town hall by Jim. After seeing her, Geraldine had decided to drive down a little later.

  Lola now stood, dressed in full splendor, at the front door of the town hall. Her floor-length orange taffeta skirt clashed with the purple tunic, which clashed with the gold wrap. It all clashed with her makeup. She had a rose and a fabric butterfly pinned in her hair, and nearly rattled as she walked from all the jewelry. Beside her, in a much more low-key outfit but just as bright a smile, was Ellen. She’d been put in charge of handing out programs as people came in.

  Lola was shining, accepting compliments and handing them out just as enthusiastically. “Mrs. Gillespie, you look marvelous.” “Yes, I am as proud as punch. It’s a wonderful night for all of us.”

  Ellen greeted everyone who passed her with the same message. “Good evening. Enjoy the show, won’t you?”

  Backstage, Anna was moving back and forth, checking on costumes, makeup, and sets. She was glad and relieved to feel the adrenaline coursing through her, giving her the energy and buzz she had always loved before a performance. She’d had a very bad night’s sleep, tired but unable to sleep, feeling the tightness across her chest again. Perhaps that scan the young doctor had mentioned was a good thing, she’d thought as she lay there in the dark, thinking the worst. She’d confided in Richard, and been comforted by his matter-of-factness.

  “It’s probably asthma, by the sound of things. But the doctor’s right. You’re just as well to get it checked out. When is the test?”

  In Adelaide, two days after the musical, she’d told him. She was going to return the costumes at the same time. She’d been surprised by his next words.

  “Would you like me to come with you? I can help you carry things, wait while you do the tests, and then take you somewhere really splendid for lunch. To celebrate the musical. And to celebrate you and—” he had stopped there. “Well, just to celebrate.”

  She had been very touched. “I’d love that,” she’d said.

  “Anna! Anna!” She turned as Len ran in, a panicked expression on his face. “One of the wheels of the train has jammed. Has anyone got any oil?”

  Anna swiftly produced a bottle from a basket by the window. She’d brought oil, nails, sticking plasters, double-sided tape, needle and thread, ready for any eventuality. There was even an industrial-size upholstery stapler that Lola had produced from somewhere.

  “Deep breath, now, Len. Everything’s all right. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  “Damn right it is,” he said loudly, cheery again. “Thanks, Anna. Break a leg, everyone.”

  At the edge of the room, leafing through her music for the tenth time, Bett overheard and grinned. Probably not the best thing for Len to say, even if it was a theatrical tradition. Knowing his ability to create chaos, the entire cast breaking a leg each was entirely possible. She was loving this part of the evening, all the excitement before the show began. Carrie was beside the mirror, app
lying makeup to all the cast members, who were lined up in a row like laughing clowns at a fair. Lola’s ladies from the charity shop were making last-minute adjustments to the costumes. In the middle of it all was Anna, calm, in control. As Bett caught her eye, Anna smiled then mouthed something.

  “What?” Bett called.

  Anna’s voice came over clearly. “Break an egg, Bett.”

  Bett laughed. She’d completely forgotten the Alphabet Sisters’ own version. “Break an egg, Anna,” she called back. Carrie looked up and grinned, too.

  Bett tucked the music under her arm and went up onto the stage, nervous and excited. She peered through a gap in the curtains into the hall. It was now nearly filled. There was a warm, bubbling noise of conversation, mixed with the sounds of chairs scraping, people finding their seats and greeting friends. It was fifteen minutes to curtain up.

  Bett made her way down the side stairs out into the little musical pit they had set up at the foot of the stage, the area marked out by trestle tables standing on their sides. One wobbled as she went past. Len’s work again, unfortunately. Such enthusiasm, but he had a mind like a dragonfly, jumping from one project to another before the first was finished.

  The other members of her small band were already seated: a sax player, a guitarist, and a drummer, each of them dressed in dark trousers and white shirt. She greeted them warmly, noticing their flushed cheeks, their bright eyes. From their excitement, it could have been Carnegie Hall, not the Clare Town Hall. She took her seat and nodded, and they began playing the first of the introductory tunes, Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood.” Looking up from the keyboard, her fingers so familiar with the notes, she spied Rebecca in the audience, with a gang of people from the newspaper. Daniel was at the end of the row. He winked at her as she caught his eye. She grinned and winked back.

  The noise in the hall changed as Lola started making her way to the stage through the center aisle. She climbed the stairs, then paused dramatically in the middle of the stage, just as Bett finished the last notes of Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, thank you all very much for coming tonight. My name is Lola Quinlan.” She gestured flamboyantly. “Welcome to the world premiere of Many Happy Returns!”

  At the interval, Anna went out to the hall to say a quick hello to Richard and Lola. She couldn’t get near her grandmother. Lola was standing in the middle of an admiring crowd, holding court. “The idea first came to me in the middle of the night about twenty-five years ago.…”

  Anna smiled as Richard came up to her. “So? What do you think?”

  “It’s wonderful.”

  “Wonderful?” Anna pulled a face. “I don’t know about that.” She lowered her voice, started ticking things off on her fingers. “General MacArthur forgot his lines again. The train got stuck. The dancing wasn’t in formation. Some of the singing was flat.…”

  He caught her hand and squeezed it in his. “And it’s still wonderful. Look at the mood. Everyone’s having a great time.”

  She grinned. “They are, aren’t they?” The audience had cheered Lola when she got up at the start. There had been some singing along with “My Favorite Things” and “Oh What a Beautiful Morning.” Len’s trick with the corn—where the sheaves suddenly came up through the stage—had almost worked. They’d risen about three inches, at least, which was better than nothing. Kaylene had veered between her English and American accents, sounding vaguely South African by the final scene of the first act, but she had put across the right emotion.

  Back at the piano, five minutes before the end of the interval, Bett felt a touch on her arm. It was Daniel. “Congratulations. It’s hilarious.”

  “Hilarious? It’s supposed to be serious drama, not great fun.”

  “Sorry. Of course it is. That’s what I meant to say. It’s hugely dramatic. The whole gamut of human emotions.”

  “Careful. We have an audience participation spot, and I have connections with the director.” The bell sounded to indicate the end of the interval. “Are you staying on for the party?”

  “If that’s okay. Len invited me, but I wasn’t sure.”

  “You were last-minute crew and nearly cast. Of course you should be there.” She wanted him to be there.

  He smiled. “Great. I’ll see you later, then.”

  “See you.” Bett was smiling, too, as she turned back to the piano. Lola was right. There was something very attractive about a man with a glint in his eye.

  In the middle of the next act she heard a faint crying from the audience, like a child, but rising louder and louder. She turned her head slightly, to see Daniel help an elderly woman out of her seat and toward the back of the hall. The crying faded to a little whimpering sound. Were the war songs reviving sad memories? Bett brought her attention back to the stage as Kaylene did her best to reach a high note but unfortunately failed. Bett played extra loud to try to cover up for it.

  They all crowded into the backstage area afterward. The noise was deafening.

  “We got five curtain calls! Five!” Carrie exclaimed. Not only that, she’d been applauded wildly after her rendition of “I Could Have Danced All Night.” Lola had received another huge cheer and then called the three of them up beside her to receive enormous bouquets of flowers. Backstage it was all excitement, backslapping, relief, reenactments of moments when scenes hadn’t worked, overlaid with compliments and praise. Some of the cast took their makeup off and changed into normal clothes. But as the after-show party got under way, Bett noticed many of them were still in their costumes and stage makeup. They looked happy to stay in them forever, in fact. Lola was beaming as though lit from within, brighter even than the night of her party.

  Bett was surprised by a sudden big hug. It was Rebecca. “Congratulations, Bett. It was fantastic. I don’t know how you all did it. What next, the West End?”

  A face popped in between them before she had a chance to answer. Len the butcher. He kissed each of them on both cheeks, nearly spilling a glass of champagne. “Bett, Rebecca, a night for celebration, don’t you think?”

  Bett clinked glasses with him. “It was fantastic, Len. Thank you so much for all the hard work.”

  “Well, I think we all contributed.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “You weren’t put off by poor old Mrs. Hilder’s crying, I hope? Daniel was very good to bring her out, though, don’t you think? His sister’s the same, takes her out everywhere. Can’t imagine my girls bringing me out if I lost my marbles like that. They’d have me locked in a home before I knew what had hit me.” He gave a loud roar of laughter, then raised his glass to them again. “See you later, then, ladies. On the dance floor, perhaps?” He gave a little twist of his hips, then moved away.

  Rebecca shook her head after him. “And the prize for the most sensitive man in the Clare Valley goes to Len once again. Daniel would hate it if he heard his mother being talked about like that.”

  “Is that the trouble at home you spoke about?”

  Rebecca nodded. “Seeing as Len has introduced the subject so delicately, yes, it is. Daniel’s mother has Alzheimer’s. That’s why he came back to Clare, to look after her. He and his sister have been taking it in turns staying with her. But it got to the point that Mrs. Hilder was beyond staying at home. They had to move her into Lilac House a week or two ago. You know it? The care house next to the hospital?”

  Bett nodded.

  “He only told me about it because there were times he’d need to leave work to go to her.”

  “Why was it such a secret?”

  “I don’t think it was out of secrecy. It was more loyalty, a way of protecting their mother. You don’t remember her?”

  Bett shook her head.

  “It’s so sad. She was the most elegant, proper woman. You know the sort? Everything perfect, under control. And she just had a complete personality change the worse her condition became. She started swearing, going down the street in unsuitable clothing. The one good
thing was she wasn’t aware of what she was doing, but it was heartbreaking for Daniel and his sister, Christine. I think that’s why they tried to look after her at home for as long as they could. You know, getting carers, installing all sorts of things to stop her from hurting herself and to keep her occupied.”

  Bett thought of the colored lines, the signs on drawers, and the locks on the cupboards she’d seen the day Daniel showed her his Dangerous video. They weren’t for any grandchildren but for Mrs. Hilder herself.

  “Oh, the poor things. That must have been so hard for them all.”

  “It has been, I think.”

  “You wouldn’t know it from Daniel, though, would you?” Bett said. “He’s so good-natured, so lovely all the time.”

  Rebecca gave her a knowing look. “Yes, he is, isn’t he? He just gets on with it, I think.” She glanced around. “I thought he might have come back after he took her back to Lilac House, but no sign of him. His poor mum must have got quite upset.”

  Bett had already noticed he hadn’t come back. She’d been keeping an eye out for him.

  Rebecca hugged her again. “Enough of such serious talk on your night of triumph. Come on, musical director, help me find a fresh bottle of champagne.”

  Midway through the party, there was a sudden, loud clapping of hands. Someone was trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly the talk died down, and the music playing from the stereo was lowered. Lola stood in the middle of the room, with a glass of champagne in one hand. “Thank you all. I promise I’ll only be a minute. We’ve all got a lot of celebrating to do tonight, and far be it from me to put a halt to your gallop.” There was laughter. “Some weeks ago, when my three granddaughters reunited for my eightieth birthday, I said something to them that I meant from the heart. And I’d like to say it to all of you tonight as well. I never dreamed this would happen in the way it did. Thank you, each and every one of you. You’ve made an old lady very happy.”